One Does What One Must
by Aaronna
Summary: Arthur realizes something about Merlin he had never noticed before. Disclaimer: IDOM *This story has been sitting on my computer half written since 2015*


Merlin never complained about how bad something tasted when it was food. Gaius's potions, he'd explain just how vile it was. Gaius's food, he ate it, although, reluctantly. Arthur hadn't thought anything of it when Merlin didn't complain about being forced to eat the rat stew, but now he wondered.

After Morgause and Morgana had taken over the city, they had been without any real supplies, yet Merlin always managed to find something for everyone to eat. Beside the roots, nuts, and berries collected over the last week, he had brought back bird eggs, a few birds, a squirrel, a pair of rabbits, some snakes, and several rats. Arthur had been too lost in his own mind to comment that his servant had killed the very things he complained about killing during hunts.

It wasn't until the second time his sister took over Camelot that he really noticed that Merlin would eat almost anything. He watched him eat grubs from under logs, a handful of crickets, and then there was the beetle. But right now, the king really wondered.

The five of them, Merlin, Gwen, himself, and the two smugglers, Tristan and Isolde, had fled Ealdor after Agravaine's men had showed up and hid in the caves. When they finally lost them in the tunnel system, they set off back towards Camelot. That was when they came up on the dead horse. The poor mare had clearly been ridden to death and left just off the path. The beast couldn't have died too long before since there were no flies or other insects feeding on it.

The idea of there being someone not too far offset Arthur on edge, so the sound of a blade against flesh triggered his years of training. The one thing he had not expected to see when he whirled around, was Merlin carving out a sizable piece of the mare's haunch and flank.

Arthur had seen Merlin heading towards it as they had passed by, but he had assumed Merlin was checking to make sure the poor creature was already gone and not suffering. He could hardly believe that Merlin was doing this. How had he even skinned that portion without the king hearing it?

"Merlin! What are you doing?!" Arthur made his voice only just loud enough for Merlin to hear.

"Getting dinner, because unless my mother gave one of you more than the bread we ate this morning, we are out of food." Merlin didn't even lift his eyes from his grisly work.

"Eat it? Merlin! You want us to eat a horse?! A horse that had been dead for gods know how long?" Arthur knew that the other had stopped walking and were aware of what Merlin was doing.

"Meat is meat, Arthur. She hasn't been dead more than a day, so the meat is fine. She was pushed too far and died. It is not like she died of some illness." Arthur couldn't believe his animal loving friend was unphased at the thought of eating a horse.

"Merlin, how do know it will be fine? She may have died long ago and the shade of the trees protected the body." Arthur couldn't believe it. Gwen was more worried about the age of the meat than the fact it was horse.

"I can tell how long an animal has been dead for Gwen. Even if she was two days dead, the meat would still be edible." Arthur was dumbfounded.

"Sound like you are used to collecting meat where you can." Tristan's voice had a pitying tone to it that pulled at something in the king's mind.

"One does what one must to survive." Merlin replied to smuggler.

He had the slab of muscle off the carcass now and was wrapping it in the hide he was already removed from the poor beast. Arthur was about to argue that they were not going to eat a horse when Isolde placed her hand on his are and shook her head sadly. There was such understanding and sadness in her eyes that he didn't understand.

"Merlin, what was the worst thing you ever ate? For me, it was a charred stew made with turned pork and acorns." Isolde's voice brought Arthur out of the half sleep he had been in.

"Boiled leather belt." Arthur felt he had to have misheard his friend, but knew he had heard it correctly.

"There must be a story behind that. Would you share it with me?" There was no pity in her voice, just solemn understanding.

"It was when I was around six, it was the dead of winter. It had been a bad harvest and the price for what we did grow had been less than before. We didn't have much to last us til spring. Not long after midwinter had passed, my mum and I ran out of food. We lasted for a while on thin soups from bark, twigs, root, and the occasional bone, but soon those were gone as well. That was when we found a thin leather belt by the river. We boiled it with sawdust and lived of that broth for as long as we could. Once it was gone, we ate the belt." Merlin told his story as though it were common knowledge.

"Was your whole village affected?" There was a mothering, protective tone that Arthur had only ever heard from Hunith before.

"Will, my friend, his father was a knight for Cenred, so they had it better than most. He and I were the only children who survived that winter. That was how we became friends. We had bad seasons again, but they never that bad again." Arthur could hear the sadness buried in Merlin's voice.

"Because you learned to gather what you could and to eat what others wouldn't?" Her voice sounded almost proud.

"Well, I'd say it helped." Arthur could hardly believe the playful tone that came out of the servant.

"Thank you, for telling me. Hopefully I will be able to sleep." She let a portion of her pain taint her tone.

"If you can't, I have plenty of stories I can distract you with." Arthur assumed Merlin had made a face or gesture because Isolde laughed.

Arthur fell back into a light sleep pondering this new side of his friend that he had never known existed.


End file.
